CHAPTER XI. A PARTY FOR TWO.
Brazilla Mullet, the elderly spinster sister of Jabez Mullet, who drovethe stage, had been the doctor's housekeeper for many years. She and herbrother occupied the neat little cottage just beyond the hedge, andJabez, when he was not driving, was gardener for both places.
Half an hour after Gene Beavers had sent the note to Windy Island bylittle sol from the glassed-in end of Doctor Winslow's veranda he hadbeen eagerly watching the road.
Miss Brazilla busied herself in the rooms adjoining that she might hearthe boy's slightest movement. Doctor Winslow had cautioned her that Gene,who was restless because of his prolonged inactivity, must not bepermitted to leave the couch, where he was comfortably propped to aposition that was half reclining by many pillows.
The doctor himself, after having written the note to Captain Ezra, hadbeen suddenly called on an emergency case out at the Life Saving Stationon The Point, and that was why Gene had been the one to give instructionsconcerning the delivery of the message.
"What time is it now, Miss Brazilla?" the boy asked.
"It's nigh to eleven, Master Gene," the housekeeper appeared in thedoorway to remark, "an' I'm hopin' the pore gal will get here in time fora bite with yo'. In all the years I've heerd tell about that child she'snever tuk a meal off Windy Island. 'Twill be a reg'lar party for Rilla,that it will--if she's let to come. I don't want to be disappointin',Master Gene, yo' and doctor settin' so much store on her comin', but Iknow Cap'n Ezra purty well and a man more sot in his opinion don'tlive--not in Tunkett anyhow, an' many's the time I've heerd him say thathis gal should never ever set eyes on city folks, if _he_ could behelpin' it."
If the elderly spinster, Miss Brazilla, might be said to have a failingit was loquacity, and Gene moved restlessly.
Instantly she was at his side. "There now, dearie," the reallykind-hearted woman exclaimed self-rebukingly, "I'd ought to've pushedthat couch farther to the starboard side o' this deck." Then she laughedapologetically. "That salt water language will crop out now'n then, tryas I may to talk fine, like city folks. There! Is that better? The sundon't shine right into your eyes now like it did. Wall, as I was sayin',if Rilly can come in time to eat with yo', 'twill be a reg'lar party forher an'----"
Poor Gene, realizing that Miss Brazilla was launched again upon anotherflood of conversation, tried to think of a way to politely interrupt, ifan interruption ever can be polite. The word "party" caught hisattention. Many a time he had heard his sister Helen say, "It's never areal party unless there's ice cream." Maybe all girls felt that way.
The housekeeper was actually turning to leave, having reached a period,and Gene made haste to inquire: "Miss Brazilla, is there any place inTunkett where we could get some ice cream?"
The amazed spinster shook her head, on which the rather sparse red-greyhairs were drawn back and down with oily smoothness.
"Why, no, Master Gene, not arter the summer colony folks go. When the hotweather's on, Mrs. Sol makes it."
"Telephone her, please, Miss Brazilla, and ask her if she couldn't makesome right away now and put strawberries in it. Tell her that she mayname her own price."
Miss Mullet lifted her hands in amazement. "Land o' Goshen!" sheejaculated. "Ice cream with strawberries in October."
Then noting that the lad had dropped back among the pillows and closedhis eyes as though he were suddenly very weary, the good woman slippedaway to do his bidding, strange as it might seem. "Sick folks takenotions," she said to herself, "but this is the tarnal queerest I everheerd of."
Half an hour later there was a timid rap on the side door. Miss Brazillahurried to open it, and, as she had hoped, there stood Muriel Storm.
Gene had fallen into a light slumber, which had greatly refreshed him,and when he awakened he heard Muriel's voice. "Top o' the morning to you,Storm Maiden," he called. "Do hurry! I'm eager to see if you look as Iremember you."
But she did not, for the Muriel with her long red-brown hair neatly tiedback with a wide green ribbon, which Miss Brazilla had made for her intoa truly beautiful butterfly bow, did not look quite like his memoriedpicture of that stormy girl who with long hair wind-blown about hershoulders, had ordered him to leave the Lighthouse Island or be devouredby her dog.
Almost shyly the girl, in her neat green gingham dress, paused in theopen doorway, hardly knowing what to do. Gene held out a frail whitehand. "Won't you come and shake hands with me?" he asked. "I'm sorry thatI can't come to you, but I have had orders to lie here until mine hostdecrees otherwise."
The girl, touched by the boy's paleness, forgot her embarrassment andwent toward him, placing her strong brown hand in the one he hadstretched forth to greet her. Then, seating herself in the wicker chairnearest, she said: "I hope yo're forgivin' me, Mr. Beavers, for makin' itso that yo' had to swim."
"It was I who used poor judgment," the boy told her. "Don't feel that youwere in the least bit to blame." Then, smiling up at her in hisfriendliest fashion, he added: "We are only in our teens, you and I, andthat's not so very grown up. Don't you think you could call me Gene andpermit me to call you Muriel? It's a beautiful name."
"'Twas my mother's." The boy thought he had never heard that word spokenwith greater tenderness. Shyly, the girl was saying: "An' I'd be thatpleased if yo' would call me the whole of it Thar's no one as calls meMuriel. Folks here jest call me Rilly."
"Then I will gladly. Now, Muriel," the lad leaned on his elbow, "the bestway for two people to become acquainted is by asking questions. Won't youtell me how you pass your time, what books you read, and----"
Gene paused, almost startled by the sudden flush that had crimsoned thecheeks of his guest. When it was too late he tried to prevent her fromhaving to make the admission, but falteringly she made it. "I can't readbooks," she said. Then the resolve of the day before gave her newcourage, and lifting her head and looking directly into his eyes with aneager expression, she added: "But I'm goin' to learn. I don' know how,but I'm goin' to."
"Of course you are, Muriel," was his hearty response. "And if I am laidup long in 'dry dock for repairs,' as Mr. Jabez Mullet calls myconfinement, perhaps you will let me help you. _I_ had to be helped, youknow. We all do, just in the beginning." The lad's smile was winsome.Then he quickly added: "There are the noon bells from the church tower,and if I'm not mistaken, Miss Brazilla is coming to serve our lunch."
Muriel sprang up when the housekeeper appeared. "Why, Miss Brazilla, mesettin' here and lettin' yo' wait on me! Mayn't I help somehow? I'm realhandy at it."
"So you are, Rilly. Fetch that little wicker table over here and stand itnear the couch. Then draw your chair and set opposite. Yo're companytoday, just like a grand young lady, and yo've nothin' to do but eat."
Muriel went to the far end of the veranda to get the small wicker table,and when she turned she was amazed to see Miss Brazilla and Geneexchanging nods and smiles. What could it mean, the girl wondered.
The lunch was daintily served and Gene became so interested in hiscompanion's tales of storms and wrecks at sea, simply yet dramaticallytold, that he ate far more heartily than he would have done alone. MissBrazilla made no comment, but she was secretly pleased.
Having cleared the table, she surprised Muriel by bringing in two dishesheaped with ice cream in which were preserved strawberries.
Gene Beavers was to pay a fabulous price for that out-of-season dessert,but when he saw the glad light dawning in the hazel eyes of his guest hedecided it was well worth it.
"I only had ice cream once before," she confessed, "an' that was whenMis' Sol had some left over that was like to melt."
After lunch Muriel told her host that he ought to sleep a while, and,when she assured him that she could stay all afternoon, the truly wearylad consented to rest, while Rilla helped Miss Brazilla in the kitchen.
An hour later when the lad awakened, refreshed, he saw that Muriel wasagain in the comfortable wicker chair at his side, looking with
greatinterest at the beautifully colored pictures in a large book that sheheld.
She glanced up glowingly when she heard a movement on the couch. "Thereadin' in it is about the sea, I reckon, from the pictures of boats andpirates," she told him.
"It is indeed," Gene exclaimed with enthusiasm. "That's Treasure Island.If you'll prop me up more I'll read to you, if you wish."
Some time later, when Dr. Winslow returned, he found Gene reading aloudfrom his favorite book, while Muriel, leaning forward, listened hungrily.
"Well, little Nurse Rilla," the good man exclaimed, "our patient is muchbetter, I can see that at a glance. I'm sorry to hurry you away, but yourboatswain Sol is waiting for you down at the gate. Your grand-dad toldhim to sail you back to Windy Island along about this time, but you're tocome again and often."
That night Captain Ezra pushed his armchair back from the table, andwhile he was lighting his pipe he looked at his "gal," his eyestwinkling. "Rilly," he said, "yo've been gabblin' faster'n chainlightnin' one hour by the clock, an' things are sort o' muddled in mymind. I dunno, for sure sartin, whether it's Billy Bones or Gene Beaversyo've been over to the mainland a visitin'."
"Both of 'em, thanks to yo', dear ol' Grand-dad," Muriel said. Then,kissing him good-night, she went up to her little loft room. But when shewas snugly in her bed it was not of Billy Bones that she dreamed.